Scabior's Halloween Adventure
by Dragon MoonX
Summary: Scabior and Dylan hate each other and can't get along, so Heather decides to force them out on Halloween night to go trick-or-treating, in hopes they'll have fun and forget how much they despise each other. Tricks, foul treats and one sugar crazed Chosen One await them on a Halloween night to remember.
1. Chapter 1

**Scabior's Halloween Adventure**

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling and I don't own her characters. However the OCs are mine.

It was late in the afternoon on Halloween night. The sun was just beginning to set on the distant horizon, the skies above tinted shades of fiery crimson fading to dark purple and gold hues. And even though he'd been repeatedly told to stay away from Heather's house, Scabior had once again dropped in to see what she was doing this Halloween night.

"Please don't tell me you've come to drink and puke candy corn all over the rug again," Heather groaned, feeling thoroughly repulsed at sight of the half drunk Snatcher in her living room.

Scabior tilted the bottle of firewhiskey he was drinking, taking several gulps of the hot, burning liquid before releasing a loud belch then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No, pet," he said, swaying slightly. "I assure you tha won't 'happen again. Violet didn't buy any candy corn this year, so we're fresh out." Scabior then leaned towards her, a simpering smile on his face. "'Ello beau'iful. Been a long time since I last saw you."

The free hand that wasn't holding his bottle of booze touched her shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her, his breath smelling strongly of alcohol.

"Get your hands off me!" Heather shrieked. She slapped him across the face hard eough to leave a red handprint on the side of his cheek.

Stumbling back into the wall, Scabior looked up and saw Dylan run forward and put an arm around her, moving Heather away from the head Snatcher. A look of pure hatred shown in Scabior's blue-grey eyes, and without warning he smashed his bottle of firewhiskey against the door. Then, holding the broken bottle by the neck, he stabbed at Dylan with the bottle's sharp, jagged edges.

Dylan quickly pushed Heather onto the couch and out of the way before turning on Scabior, when suddenly Heather shouted, "Stop! Stop fighting!"

The two wizards stopped, Dylan with a fistful of Scabior's hair and Scabior with his hands around Dylan's neck as he attempted to strangle the immortal bastard.

"Why can't you two get along?" Heather cried in hopeless frustration. "Can't you be in the same room without trying to kill each other?"

The two wizards slowly backed off each other, with Scabior gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at Dylan as his hands curled into fists at his sides.

"You guys need to learn how to have fun together," Heather continued. "It's Halloween. Why don't you go out trick-or-treating like everyone else does? I bet you'll have such a good time that you'll forget about fighting and start getting along."

"You want me to go out with him?!" Scabior and Dylan exclaimed in unison. They both looked horrified at the thought of going somewhere together.

"Yeah, why not? You could really have a good time. And you'd get candy and could start working on learning how to get along."

"Sorry, pet, but I'm not very fond of sweets," said Scabior. "Not unless you count peppermint schnapps. Besides, I think I've suddenly lost my appetite from looking at this thing." He pointed with his thumb towards Dylan. "Seriously, pet, buy yourself a new pair of glasses an see wha the 'ell you're living with."

"And what kind of sweets do the muggles here have to offer?" asked Dylan in a voice of forced calm as he tried his best to ignore Scabior's last comment. "They wouldn't happen to have anything homemade, would they? Say perhaps sugar cookies."

Scabior rolled his eyes and took a few steps away from Dylan. He reached beneath his jacket and removed a second bottle of firewhiskey from somewhere within the folds of material.

Dylan looked at him and frowned. "What are you? The everlasting booze man?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't 'ear tha," said Scabior, and took a swig of his drink.

"I think you had better get going before you start fighting again," said Heather as she stood up and started pushing them out the door. "And yes, Dylan, some people do give away homemade treats like cookies and candied apples."

.oOo.

Several minutes later, Scabior and Dylan stood on the sidewalk ready to approach their first house. Dylan, who was more in the spirit of things than Scabior, had conjured up a large, plastic pumpkin bucket with a black handle for carrying his candy in. Scabior, on the other hand, was more interested in drinking and decided to stuff whatever candy he got in his pockets for later.

"An wha do we do about costumes?" asked Scabior as they walked up the stairs towards the door of a bright blue house. "We didn't exactly bring anything to dress up as."

Dylan grinned. A pair of cat ears suddenly sprouted atop his head, followed by spotted wings, whiskers and a long tail. He now looked very much like a winged human that was also part cat.

"Show off," grumbled Scabior, taking another drink from his bottle of firewhiskey.

They visited several houses without incident, collecting candy along the way while Scabior became progressively drunk throughout the evening. The only problem they had came when Scabior was asked about his costume by a woman handing out Snickers bars.

"Who are you supposed to be?" she asked.

"I'm Scabior," the Snatcher replied, leaning in a little too close and wafting his booze breath in her face. "You know, from the 'Arry Potter books."

"Well, you look more like a drunk hobo." She then slammed the door in Scabior's face without giving him any candy.

Dylan immediately burst out laughing. Scabior, however, was less than amused.

"We'll just see about tha." Scabior pounded on the door with his fist while Dylan continued laughing until his eyes watered and his sides ached.

When the lady opened the door, Scabior said in a voice of fake sweetness that dripped with insincerity, "Excuse me, ma'am, but which of your shrubs do you think would benefit from a thorough vomiting?"

"What?" The lady looked at him with wide eyes, too shocked by his words to fully comprehend what he'd just said.

"Never mind. I'll choose one myself." And with that Scabior leaned over the railing on the woman's front porch and proceeded to vomit into her azaleas.

"I'm calling the cops!" the woman screeched, and slammed the door shut.

"'Appy 'Alloween!" Scabior called out over his shoulder once his stomach had purged itself of its contents.

"I think we'd best move to a new location," said Dylan, taking the Snatcher by the arm. He then Disapparated, taking Scabior with him to a different neighborhood.

"Where are we?" Scabior asked, swaying slightly and trying his best to remain standing upright.

"Somewhere far away from the muggle authorities, I hope," said Dylan. "And do try to behave yourself this time."

But things only got worse from there on out.


	2. Chapter 2

They were questioned about their age at the next house, and were given the "aren't you a little too old for trick-or-treating" routine.

"It's alright," said Scabior, casually dismissing the man's question with a wave of his gloved hand. "This bloke is over two 'undred years old. But 'e 'as the mentality of a two year old."

"You insolent jackass!" Dylan exclaimed. He pounced on Scabior and they tumbled off the doorstep into the bushes.

They rolled and fought, with Dylan shouting obscenities in six different languages. They came to a halt halfway outside the bushes, with Scabior on his back and Dylan above him with his fist raised, when Scabior suddenly cried, "Look! It's Potter! It's 'Arry Potter!"

Dylan turned his head and looked in the direction Scabior was pointing. He was sure that this was some kind of trick aimed at distracting him long enough for Scabior to slip away. But there he was, Harry Potter and his cousin Dudley, out trick-or-treating a few houses down on the street across from them.

Scabior and Dylan scampered back into the bushes.

"Merlin, wha the bloody 'ell is 'e doing 'ere?" asked Scabior, peering out from between the bushes.

The two wizards watched as Harry and Dudley went door to door trick-or-treating. Dudley was dressed as the screen from a drive in movie theater, but Harry wasn't wearing a costume. The only thing he wore was a rather irritated frown plastered across his face as he walked beside his cousin.

"That costume is ridiculous," Harry grumbled. "Who goes dressed as a movie screen?"

"There's nothing wrong with my costume," snapped Dudley, shoving more candy in his face as he walked down the street towards the next house. "I've always had the best, most creative costumes. Like last year I wore a big X on my back and went as a helicopter landing pad."

"And what're you going as next year? The rain delay tarp from game one of the world series?"

"Ooh, that sounds good," said Dudley thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that. I think I'll give it a go."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. Not only had Dudley's costume grown each year, but so had had what his cousin used to carry the candy in.

When they were kids, Dudley started out carrying a little plastic pumpkin bucket like Dylan had, which became rather tedious. It was like when the barn's on fire in the old west because he had to go home, dump the bucket, then go back out again. All night long it was just buckets, buckets, buckets.

From there Dudley graduated to using a pillow case. Then a sleeping bag. These days he often used his niece's kiddie pool, which he drug more than he carried it since it was rather was large. And this particular kiddie pool had a slide at the top of the pool. So all Dudley had to do was to ask the people to please place the candy at the top of the slide on the kiddie pool, and then it would slid down into a neat little pile at the bottom of the pool.

When Dudley reached the next house, the woman who answered the door asked Harry who he was supposed to be. Harry responded be saying, "I'm Harry Potter. You know, from the books and movies. I'm very famous. I'm sure you've heard all about me from your children and friends."

"Yeah right, Urkel," said the woman, and dropped a single piece of candy in Harry's treat bag. "Nice try."

Dudley laughed as she closed the door in Harry's face.

"That's the eighth time that's happened tonight!" Harry exclaimed. "Why doesn't anyone recognize me? Don't they realize who I am? Don't they know that I'm the Chosen One?"

While Harry was ranting, Dudley reached into Harry's treat bag, snatched his piece of candy, popped it in his mouth and ate it.

"And you!" Harry shouted, turning on his cousin. "I'm fed up with you eating all my sweets! I have never, in all my years of doing this, had one damn piece of chocolate because you keep eating it all!"

"Harry, no," said Dudley, trembling as he began to back away from the enraged wizard. "You know why mum and dad don't want you eating sweets. You can't. You'll go mad."

But Harry Potter wasn't listening. He stole his cousin's treat bag, ripping it open like a wild animal as brightly colored candies spilled out onto the street. His frightened cousin took a step back as Harry began to devour the sugary treats.

He knew what was coming. He'd seen it before when Harry was nine, and it was bad enough then before Harry had discovered how to use magic. Now he was a full blown wizard. And Dudley, who lived in fear of all magical things like his parents, decided to flee the scene before things got out of hand.

Dylan and Scabior were still watching from the cover of the bushes. They watched as Dudley bolted, running away as fast as his legs could carry him.

"What's 'is problem?" asked Scabior, watching Dudley's plump form running down the street and around the corner.

"Don't know," Dylan replied. "Poor lad acts as though he's seen a ghost."

They both looked back at Harry as the sound of maniacal laughter reached their ears. The Chosen One had already eaten all the candy in Dudley's treat bag, and was now trembling and twitching like he'd smoked too much crack.

"Sugar..." Harry growled, drool dripping from his chocolate stained lips. "We must have it... The precious! Precious sugar!"

He twitched and laughed, tearing at his clothes as he fell to the ground and started rolling around in the candy wrappers.

"Sugar!" he howled, ripping his clothes off until he was lying there naked on the sidewalk. Harry then shot off like a cannonball, streaking naked through the streets and babbling insane nonsense as he went.

"You know, it's times like these I wish I 'ad one of those little camera phones the muggles are always carrying around with them," said Scabior.

Suddenly Dylan shouted, "Scabior, look out! He's coming this way!"

The Chosen One came to a halt a few yards away from the bushes Scabior and Dylan were in. He had smelled the candy in Dylan's treat bag and he wanted it.

"Sugar," Harry hissed, crouching down on all fours as he approached the bushes. "Give us the precious sugar!"

Scabior grinned. While Dylan was on the verge of panicking, the head Snatcher remained calm. He found this whole situation highly entertaining, and had decided to have some fun with it.

"You want sugar?" Scabior crooned sweetly, holding up a stick of chewing gum and waving it back and forth. "Come an get it."

Harry Potter pounced on Scabior, swiping the stick of gum and stuffing it in his mouth. However he was in for an unpleasant surprise when he realized that the tasty treat wasn't what he thought it would be.

Scabior laughed as Harry seized up and fell to the ground, twisting and writhing in agony.

"It burns us!" Harry screeched, holding his throat and rolling around in the grass. "It burns us! Why? You said it was sugar!"

"Right," Scabior said with a smile. "Sugar free."

"Oh dear," said Dylan, watching as Harry began to scream and froth at the mouth. "Are you sure that was a wise decision?"

"Who cares?" said Scabior, waving off Dylan's question and concerns. "Come on. It's getting late. An I know of a lovely little place we need to visit before we go 'ome."


	3. Chapter 3

Their last stop of the evening was the home of Bellatrix Lestrange. Scabior knew what kind of food and treats she made, and there was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to have Dylan sample some of her unique culinary creations.

Scabior approached the front door and rang the doorbell. Seconds later the door was flung open, and Bellatrix appeared in the doorway.

A delighted smile spread across her face as she leaned forward and started fingering Scabior's scarf.

"Why Scabior, how wonderful to see you again," Bella cooed. "And what's this? I see you brought a friend with you."

Dylan glanced nervously at Bellatrix and whispered, "Scabior, is she alright? She looks like a mad woman. Her eyes...her hair... Something seems a bit off with this one."

"You 'ave no idea," Scabior whispered out of the corner of his mouth. He then slapped Bella's hand so she would stop touching his scarf.

Bellatrix quickly withdrew her hand. "Ooh, I see you've still got as much fight in you as you did the last time we were together." Her mad stare and wild eyes traveled down the length of his body, eyeing him hungrily before her gaze returned to his face. "Why don't you come inside and play, Scabior?"

Upon hearing this Scabior backed up, grabbed hold of Dylan, and shoved the unfortunate wizard forward, causing him to stumble and fall into Bellatrix's arms.

Bella squealed in delight, looking down at the wide-eyed and frightened wizard in her arms.

"Why don't you play with 'im instead?" said Scabior, grinning because he knew what would happen to Dylan once Bellatrix got her hands on him. "You've already 'ad your fun with me. Wouldn't it be more fun to play with a brand new toy?"

"Yes! Yes!" Bella squealed, bouncing up and down with Dylan in her arms.

Before Dylan knew what was happening, he was whisked away by Bellatrix and carried off to be chained up and tortured in her cellar.

 _Five hours later..._

The front door of Bellatrix's house opened, and Dylan was thrown out into the street where he lay in a broken, bloody heap, twitching and groaning.

Scabior was waiting on the front porch, leaning casually against the railing and drinking from a bottle of brandy. He turned his head as he heard footsteps approaching, and looked up to see Bellatrix walking towards him.

The mad witch was positively fuming. She was so thoroughly pissed off that Scabior could have sworn he saw smoke coming out of her ass.

"There's something wrong with him!" Bella screamed, pointing a finger at Dylan. "My new toy doesn't seem to be able to feel physical pain the way normal people do. Where's the fun in torturing someone if they can't even feel it?"

Scabior lowered the bottle of brandy and belched. "Sorry about tha. Forgot to tell you this one's defective."

"You tricked me, Scabior!"

"Well, it is 'Alloween. An they do give you the option - trick _or_ treat."

Bellatrix turned around and stormed back into the house. She came back a minute later with a bag full of something that smelled incredibly foul.

"Wha is tha?" Scabior asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He leaned over and peered into the orange and black trick-or-treat bag. Inside he saw Bella had placed a take out order of her fried lice cakes. He also noticed that the foul aroma seemed to be wafting from the brown, watery fluid that had been drizzled over the top of the cakes.

"This is for your friend," Bella huffed, still looking rather disappointed and annoyed. "They're his Halloween treats. I know you won't eat my food, so I decided to give them to him instead."

"An wha's tha brown stuff?"

"Chocolate."

The head Snatcher accepted the smelly, soggy dripping bag of "treats", then went to get Dlyan and head home for the evening.

.oOo.

It was well after one in the morning when Heather heard the doorbell ring. She opened the door and saw Dylan standing on the doorstep, bloody, beaten and bruised from head to toe. He was holding a rancid bag of shit covered lice cakes, and looked like he was mere moments away from losing consciousness on her doorstep.

Scabior's grinning face peered over Dylan's shoulder. "'Ello, pet. I bought your friend 'ome. An you know wha? You were right. I did 'ave a good time. Great time actually. I don't know about 'im, but then again I don't really care." Scabior then gave Dylan a little nudge, and Dylan fell forward, losing consciousness as he collapsed in Heather's arms.

"Good night, pet," said Scabior, waving at Heather before disapparating off her front porch.

And that is the story of how Scabior and Dylan spent their first Halloween together.


End file.
